


My Pain, Your Thrill

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, and they kiss, that's it more or less, they beat each other up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8666314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Their reunion goes sour, but Reaper isn't leaving without Jesse.





	

McCree’s head hit the wall with a sickening crack. The white hot pain blinded him for a moment, filling his whole body with static. It was impossible to understand if Reaper had broken his head or the wall behind him. He took a shot at the night and kicked into the air in front of him, pleased to hit something.

“You were never anything more than the dirt under my shoes,” Reaper hissed, punching McCree again, this time in the ribs. McCree hunched over, fighting the urge to slump on the floor. He couldn’t give up the high ground. His attempt to hit back was lazily blocked and the Reaper grabbed hold of his neck, dragging him up the wall and pinning him against it.

McCree tried to rip his hand off from him, but the Reaper was stronger. His vision was coming back, the outline of Reaper’s mask sharpening before him.

“You think you can just come back like this? Look what you’ve done.”

Reaper’s claws dragged over the unprotected parts of McCree’s stomach, making him cry out in pain. Running his fingers over the wounds, he brushed against the handle of his revolver. Right.

It was a move he had done so much that it had become a reflex. McCree drew his revolver from the holster, shooting once at Reaper’s direction. His hold on McCree’s neck weakened and he pulled himself free, air flooding his lungs. McCree had shot Reaper’s thigh, thick, black fluid leaking out onto the floor.

“Running out of tricks?” McCree taunted, ducking just as the Reaper tried to hit him again. His claws had gotten stuck in the wall, winning him a moment to punch him in the stomach as hard as he could. The Reaper groaned in pain. McCree couldn’t help but to laugh at that.

“Is this funny to you?” Reaper asked.

“You had it coming.”

The sound of Reaper laughing took him aback. “Well, isn’t that cute.”

Reaper charged, pushing both of them on the ground. He alternated between punching McCree in the face and clawing at it, covering the floor around them with blood. McCree was half amazed that he only started crying now, tears running over his face like acid.

“Look at you,” Reaper said. He ran his fingers through McCree’s bloodsoaked beard, jabbing one of them in a wound. McCree cried out in pain. It was becoming harder and harder for him not to pass out from the pain. “Pathetic.”

McCree tried his luck and hit up with his knee, hoping to at least distract the Reaper. He was surprised at his success, getting the same spot on his stomach again. The Reaper let his guard down for a moment and McCree let adrenaline take over, ripping Reaper’s mask off.

The Reaper forgot all about the pain. He was exposed.

Vulnerable.

Enraged.

Enough to distract McCree, apparently.

McCree had gone lax, blankly staring at Reaper. He couldn’t recognize the man anymore. 

Red irises glowing with rage, face scarred beyond imagination, flesh peeling off of his cheeks, revealing a mouth full of fangs. Wisps of smoke were playing over his sickly graying skin.

“You’re a monster,” McCree said. 

Reaper smiled and McCree noticed how his teeth lined up with the scars over his lips. He wondered if there was anything human left about him.

“Are you too scared to go on now?” Reaper sneered. 

That seemed to remind McCree of what they were doing. He tried to aim a punch at Reaper’s face but he grabbed his arms, pinning them down on the ground.

McCree didn’t expect the Reaper to pull him into a kiss.

It tasted like rot and blood, Reaper’s teeth tearing on his lips and tongue. It was repulsive, disgusting, just what he needed. Resistance was futile.

McCree belonged to the Reaper once again.

The kiss went on longer than McCree had expected, caught in a moment of unlikely passion. Reaper pulled away first, the same grin playing on his lips again. 

“Fucking slut.”

The moment was over and the Reaper hit McCree in the ribs again, leaving him broken on the ground as he stood up.

“You’re vile,” McCree groaned.

“Took you a while to figure it out,” Reaper said. “I might even keep you around.”

“The hell you ain’t,” McCree tried to argue, only to be met with another laugh.

“You can’t tell me shit,” the Reaper smiled. “You took more than I expected. You’ll make a fine little plaything.”

The Reaper kicked his stomach and McCree finally passed out. Didn’t take long for anybody to realize that he will wake up in a cell, tied up and ready for more.

Bruised and bloody and broken, Reaper finally had what was his.

**Author's Note:**

> Had a fight scene on my mind for a while, didn't have any fics where it would fit so I wrote this. All mistakes are mine, feedback appreciated!


End file.
